


all for a pretty sky (and your pretty eyes)

by cheddarabbit



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - the war ended after the Siege of Ba Sing Se, Ambassador Zuko (Avatar), Chief Sokka (Avatar), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheddarabbit/pseuds/cheddarabbit
Summary: Years after the war has ended, Zuko has been chosen to be an ambassador of the Fire Nation to monitor the Southern Reconstruction Project in the Southern Water Tribe. It’s being led by Chief Sokka, the youngest chief on record and an unspoken enemy of Zuko. The priority is the reconstruction of the tribe for both of them. Zuko doubts that they'll even be friends, which he's accepted.But if they'll never be friends, why does Zuko's heart race whenever the Chief's around?
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 180





	1. Ambassador Zuko of the Fire Nation

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In the Soft Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098987) by [CSHfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSHfic/pseuds/CSHfic), [VSfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VSfic/pseuds/VSfic). 



> reading "In the Soft Light" inspired me to make my own ambassador Zuko-like fanfic. Jesse and Jenna's works are all amazing, but this one is my personal favorite and one of my biggest inspirations for this!! please go support the work and the authors :)
> 
> title from "BLEACH" by BROCKHAMPTON
> 
> [tags will be added as _all for a pretty sky_ is updated. check back frequently! **be warned! the tags may contain spoilers, but I will try my best to be vague.** ]

The ocean between the Fire Nation and the Southern Water Tribe was nothing less than treacherous at times. 

Zuko had never been far past the Fire Nation at any given point in his life, certainly not as far as the South Pole. He had seen the icy waters in the past, but he had never seen the looming icebergs or the crashing waves that hit the sides of his Fire Nation ship. He wondered if the size of it kept it from capsizing or if it was just his luck.

The captain, an elderly man hired just three days before he needed to leave, had hardly spoken to Zuko except when they first got on the ship. He navigated the ship in silence, occasionally murmuring about the trip or the gold he was offered for his services. He was an older Water Tribe citizen (from which tribe he came from, Zuko was unsure), but he assured Zuko that he knew where he was going and could get him there in the fastest amount of time. Zuko was sure that he was correct in his claim, but _Agni_ , if the trip didn’t feel like a lifetime.

In reality, Zuko’s mind was racing too much for the trip to feel like anything less.

An ambassador of the Fire Nation… It was one of the most important things that Zuko would ever do, he was sure.

Iroh had been insistent on Zuko being the ambassador. When he pitched to Fire Lord Azulon, he assured his father that no one in the Fire Nation was as capable as Zuko to do the job.

“My nephew is one of the finest young men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing,” Iroh had said to the Fire Lord. It had been over breakfast, and Zuko watched in anxious anticipation. Even after hitting one-hundred years of age and needing assistance to get out of a chair, his grandfather looked intimidating, and he simply stared at his son in silence while he spoke. “He is a quick learner, and he will be the most respectful of any Fire Nation citizen. He is young, and he can make a fine impression on anyone he meets. The Southern Reconstruction Project needs someone like him there.”

Azulon gave his plate to a servant as he contemplated the decision. Zuko had since abandoned his breakfast, too nervous to eat out of fear he would throw up all over the table. He very much wanted to be the ambassador. He wanted to help the Southern Water Tribe destroyed by the very war that his grandfather kept going; he wanted to redeem the Fire Nation, even if it was a little bit at a time. Besides, someone needed to help establish the trade route. Who better than a member of the Fire Nation Royal family, someone who knew more about it than anyone?

Azulon eventually looked Zuko in the eye and nodded. “A glowing recommendation from the crown prince cannot be ignored,” he said. His voice was raspy with age, and Zuko had to strain to hear him. “You are now the ambassador for the Fire Nation. Do not let us down.”

Iroh had celebrated with Zuko in the hallway. 

Looking out at the icy horizon, Zuko realized quickly that the coat he had received was nowhere near ready to handle the South Pole’s temperatures. He had seen images of Water Tribe members in the books he read to prepare himself for the trip, and most thick coats had fur lining, thicker leathers, and multiple layers to keep its wearers warm and try. Zuko’s coat, created by a royal palace seamstress who had never met someone from the Southern Water Tribe, had a single layer of thick material and a thicker hood to avoid windy conditions. The sleeves were already wet from the freezing water splashing into the boat. 

Zuko wondered what the Southern Water Tribe members would think of him.

While Zuko had no direct hand in the damage that came from the raids to the tribe, he knew that they would likely still hate him for the events that had transpired. He could hardly blame them for it. As a direct descendant of the very man who destroyed their home, Zuko knew that he had a big task ahead of him in getting them to not hate him. He had to make a good impression on them and prove that the Fire Nation could change and help them. Azulon’s declaration of the end of the Great War was a hopeful step in the right direction. Zuko just had to keep them walking.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sloshing of icy water into the ship. Zuko lifted his arms to wrap around himself in an attempt to keep warm. He bit back a complaint at the captain, who was too focused on keeping the ship moving that Zuko’s words would have been ignored. If he were a few years younger, he would have barked an order at the captain, ignoring the disrespect in his tone. But he was older. He was twenty-one, and he would prove himself to his uncle, Fire Lord Azulon, and the Fire Nation.

…if he didn’t freeze to death.

“Are we close, sir?” he called to the captain. His voice trembled with the cold, but he ignored it. 

“Getting there very soon, yes.” The captain looked back at him as the boat rocked against a wave. “We are meeting with a Southern Water Tribe warrior about a mile out. He will brief you and take you the rest of the way.”

Zuko nodded, looking back out over the water. He was satisfied with the answer and decided that it was a reasonable wait from then on.

What would he do when he first arrived? He likely had to meet the Chief first and foremost, where they would talk about what needed to be restored and what needed to be added to the tribe. He knew from letters from Chief Arnook of the Northern Water Tribe that it was a joint effort to restore the sister tribe. How much money, resources, and assistance went into helping the Southern Water Tribe? Would the Fire Nation be completely unhelpful towards restoration efforts? Or did the Chief lie about their involvement to cost the Fire Nation more money? To a point, Zuko would understand why they would do such a thing. The Fire Nation was the reason for the damage in the first place.

Zuko could not help but feel guilty for what happened to the Southern Water Tribe. He was only eleven when the final raid on the tribe took place. He didn’t even know about the damages of war yet, having only been fed Fire Nation propaganda by his father from his birth to when he was thirteen. He didn’t have to think too hard about how awful it was after that, after Iroh abandoned his status as a General and taught him the truth, but it was after the war had ended, and everything had already been done. 

He remembered when he first learned from his trusted uncle what had really happened to the tribe. “Your grandfather… He wanted to eliminate the Southern Water Tribe in its entirety,” he had said. It was the grim frown on his face that left Zuko, who was sixteen at the time, with chills going up and down his spine. “That new Chief… He has inherited the remnants of what was once a great place with a great culture. My father and grandfather have no regard for that. They care only for what was best for the Fire Nation. Not the world.”

Zuko had taken a sip of his tea, realizing that it had long since gone cold. He didn’t bother to heat it back up.

“It shames me that I once believed that we were the best in the world,” Iroh admitted. He placed his empty teacup on the table in front of them. “I want to teach you otherwise before it is too late for you. We can be great, but only if we right the wrongs of our past.”

“Do you really think Grandfather will do such a thing?”

Iroh had chuckled. It was mirthless. “Not in his lifetime. It is up to us.”

“To… us?”

“Yes. _Us_.” Iroh had leaned in close, as if he was telling a secret that only Zuko was allowed to know. “I have no direct heir to the throne, nephew,” he said solemnly. “I hope that I do not have to leave that responsibility to you for many, many years. Before that day comes, you need to help me restore the Fire Nation’s honor. It is better than the stain of blood and war that our family has left.”

Zuko knew a lot about restoring honor. There were some days where he wondered if the honor he lost all those years ago had really returned to him, if he had earned it. There were other days where he wondered if he ever lost that honor at all. 

He looked his uncle in the eye and nodded. He knew for certain that the Fire Nation had _none_.

“I’ll help you in any way that I can, Uncle.”

Those very words echoed in Zuko’s head when he was asked if he would be the ambassador. They echoed in his head on that boat, alongside the uncertainty that became all too familiar to him over the years.

Zuko refused to let Iroh—the Fire Nation—down. He couldn’t. _Wouldn’t_.

Did a twenty-one-year-old need that kind of pressure on his shoulders? No. But Zuko knew a lot about pressure. He knew _more_ about what was at stake. He could handle it.

His thoughts were taken back to the present when he saw the silhouette of a boat in the distance, hidden away by ocean mist from the waves. It was bigger than the one that Zuko rode in, and it was very clearly a Southern Water Tribe cutter sailing ship. He recognized the telltale looming sail from the books he read in the Fire Nation. A single lantern was on board, but it was not lit, and Zuko could see two men on board.

One of them remained at the back of the boat, the hood of his parka hiding his identity. The other man was clearly steering the boat, and his blue eyes were focused on the water before them. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, and it was tied back in a ponytail on the back of his head. He wore a thick Water Tribe coat, lined with animal fur to keep him warm against the freezing weather. Zuko wondered how much warmer he felt.

The captain of Zuko’s ship was on his feet in a flash. “Bato! I’m glad that the trip was safe.”

Bato. The warrior that was supposed to be helping Zuko acclimate to the Southern Water Tribe. One of the men who worked closest with the Chief. 

The man steering the ship—Bato—lifted a hand to wave in their direction. “Likewise! Pull around so I can help our ambassador aboard.”

Zuko’s move to Bato’s ship was relatively painless. He stumbled once he stepped on, but he was able to balance himself with Bato’s help. Zuko thanked the captain a final time for his assistance, and he shrugged it off, stating that his job had been finished. With a final departing wave, he was gone, and Zuko was on the ship with Bato.

“I am glad that you are here, Zuko,” Bato said kindly.

Zuko bowed at him. He remembered the importance of a good first impression; the one for the Fire Nation was nothing short of atrocious, so Zuko had to make up for it. He rose back to a standing position, and he was shocked to see Bato’s surprised expression. “The pleasure is mine, sir. I’m grateful that you’ve given me this chance to help your tribe.”

Bato smiled. “That’s the most respect I’ve seen out of a Fire Nation citizen in my entire life. I’m impressed.” He gestured to an installed seat near the edge of the boat. “Please, have a seat. It will still be a while before we arrive. The tides have been rough today.”

Zuko sat down with a soft chuckle. “They were hardly kind to us on the journey here.”

Silence passed for a few minutes while the ship navigated the waves. The ship’s sides were taller, and Bato was an excellent steerer, so Zuko’s sleeves remained blissfully dry. He wasn’t warm by any means, but he was sure that there was a fire at the Southern Water Tribe to warm him upon his arrival. He also had his fire breath to warm him, but he doubted that firebending on a water tribe ship would go well.

The silence was suddenly broken by Bato. “I’m glad that you have decided to come to the tribe, Zuko. Your uncle had lots good to say about you.”

Zuko looked over from the horizon of the ocean and stared at Bato with perplexity. “I didn’t know that you spoke with him.”

“Oh, I met Iroh in a coastal town in the Earth Kingdom a few weeks back. I recognized him from the letter we received about the end of the war.” Bato frowned. “I had my initial suspicions about him, but he invited me to tea, and we talked for a while about the Southern Reconstruction Project. He said that he was going to recommend you for the task of ambassador.”

Zuko should have known that Iroh would invite Bato to tea. It was just like his uncle to do something like that. “He’s changed a lot since the war ended,” Zuko said. “He abandoned his status of General after the failed siege.”

“So he told me.” Bato turned the ship to avoid a nasty wave, trying to keep the ship from rocking too much. “The siege took a toll on the Fire Nation for sure. I am not ashamed to say that I was happy about it, but… I _am_ saddened that Iroh lost his son.”

 _Lu Ten_. Zuko’s chest tightened at the mention of his deceased cousin. “It changed him for the better, as awful as it sounds,” Zuko replied. He decided to avoid his comment about his joy at a Fire Nation loss.

“Seems like everyone lost something in that war.” Bato looked suddenly sad, and Zuko was taken aback by the sudden mood change. “The Southern Water Tribe lost much. Everything we ever fought for, gone in a flash.” 

Zuko’s stomach churned at the thought. He didn’t reply.

“The biggest loss,” Bato continued, “was the loss of our Chief. Even if he did not die by the war, he died because of something the war caused.”

Zuko tilted his head. “I didn’t know that.”

Bato looked Zuko in the eye. His blue eyes reflected deep sadness that Zuko felt at his very core. “Our Chief left with a hunting party to go to the deep tundra in search of supplies to start reconstruction. Two weeks went by. Then three.” Bato closed his eyes. “One by one, every member of the hunting party returned. Our Chief never arrived. Everyone in the hunting party said that he separated himself from them during a blizzard and never returned.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He was.

“Thank you, Zuko.” Bato’s eyes opened and looked back out towards the horizon. Wistful. _Longing_. “His son was fifteen at the time. He was so young, so involved in a war that he never should have seen. He declared himself Chief when a month had officially passed.”

Zuko had only heard rumors about what happened to the previous Chief; the Fire Nation hardly cared about the specifics of the matter. He had heard that he had been eaten by a platypus-bear. He heard that he had been killed in the initial raid from the Fire Nation. He heard _nothing_ about a hunting trip gone wrong. 

Zuko shook his head. He had no words to fill the silence. There were no words that would make something like that easier to take. 

“Chief Sokka is still so young. He’s the youngest Water Tribe Chief… damn, _ever_. The second youngest was in their early thirties.” Bato shook his head. His voice was laced with anger, but Zuko knew that it was not towards him, but perhaps towards the universe itself. “It’s so unfair to him. He lost _everything_. No kid deserves that.”

The silence that passed then was tense. Zuko felt as though he would either pass out or throw up. It was his nation’s fault that the youngest Chief was a _fifteen-year-old boy_.

“He… He’s older now, isn’t he?” Zuko managed to get out. His mind forgot suddenly how long ago the Chief had been decided. Five months? Five years?

Bato nodded hurriedly. “Oh, of course. He turned twenty a few weeks ago.”

Thank _Agni_.

“How old are you, Zuko?” Bato continued. “You look pretty young.”

Zuko nodded. “I am. I’m twenty-one.”

Bato shook his head. “Twenty-one years old… Spirits, you’re young too!” His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, indicating that he was deep in thought. “He’s younger than you… and in charge of a whole tribe of people. It’s just—”

He paused for a long time. Zuko hardly wanted to know what was going through his head. He knew little about the previous Chief, but he had to have been young if Chief Sokka was fifteen when he disappeared. Zuko didn’t want to imagine if he was the Fire Lord at such an age. To be in charge of your people, their livelihoods, at such a young age… it was worse than anything he could ever picture.

“He needs a companion,” Bato finally said. He looked Zuko in the eye once more, and Zuko noticed that his blue eyes had hardened in seriousness. “I know he is a Chief, and he’s in charge of us, but… he’s a _kid_. To _me_.” He shook his head, trying to shake the thought out of his mind. “He puts all of himself into the reconstruction of our tribe. He cares more than any of us, and I want nothing more than for the Southern Reconstruction Project to go well. If not for us, then for Sokka’s father. It was all he wanted, and he ended up dying for it.”

Zuko nodded. Any words that he wanted to say died in his throat. What was there _to_ say?

“He needs a friend,” Bato said finally. He turned the boat once more, and Zuko felt the waves shift it beneath his feet. “I know that the priority is the reconstruction of the tribe. It _is_ , but… you should try to be his friend at the same time. You’ll be spending a lot of time together. I don’t consider it outside the realm of possibility.”

Zuko stared at him with a blank expression for a moment. “No disrespect, sir,” he said, “but Chief Sokka is going to _hate_ me.”

“He will.” Bato’s eyebrows furrowed. “But I can tell that you’re different. Chief Sokka is a perceptive boy. He will see it too. It may just take some time.”

Zuko could see the desperate in his eyes. Zuko knew that the Chief was going to hate him. There was no doubt about it in his mind. Did Bato really think that their relationship could evolve past that hatred, the unfiltered animosity? How he deserved to feel towards someone from the Fire Nation?

He never really thought much about being friends with the Chief. Acquaintances? Yes. He didn’t doubt that they would be acquaintances. Colleagues? Work partners? Of course.

Friends? Never. Never in their lives would they be friends.

He gave Bato a forced smile.

“I’ll do my best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> support the fic on tumblr [here](https://zukkastanrights.tumblr.com/post/632538434866708480/all-for-a-pretty-sky-and-your-pretty-eyes)!!! send me an ask/message me on tumblr, [zukkastanrights](https://zukkastanrights.tumblr.com/), if you'd like to see writing updates and ask me about this!! :)


	2. Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko meets Chief Sokka for the first time upon his arrival at the Southern Water Tribe. It goes just as well as Zuko expected it to (in other words, poorly).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tags will be added as _all for a pretty sky_ is updated. check back frequently! **be warned! the tags may contain spoilers, but I will try my best to be vague.** ]

Zuko arrived at the Southern Water Tribe just as the sun was setting over the horizon. It was hardly dark by any means, but the sky was starting to turn orange along the water. Zuko believed it would be an hour before darkness fell upon the South Pole.

He didn’t know that it was possible, but he was colder than he was at the beginning of the journey. He was dry of ocean water, but the winter air left him shivering from his seat. He and Bato had neglected conversation, enjoying the comfortable silence that was between them.

Zuko didn’t think that he could talk about anything noteworthy anyway. All he could think about was Chief Sokka.

How was the universe so unfair that it forced a fifteen-year-old boy to step up to be Chief when his father disappeared? 

Zuko knew that it wasn’t the universe. It was the Fire Nation. But he didn’t want to think that it was _his blood_ that caused him so much hardship. 

Zuko had never met Chief Sokka before, but he knew that he didn’t deserve that fate. He didn’t deserve to have to step up when he had to deal with losing his father at the same time. No one did.

He saw the outer wall of the Southern Water Tribe after another half hour at sea. Bato announced their arrival and started to slow the ship down to safely pull it into the tribe. Zuko rose to his feet and stood on the edge of the ship, looking out over the water. 

The tribe was small. Zuko recognized a small rounded area near the coast of the ocean that consisted of housing. Tents lined a circular fire pit that sat in the middle, and the fire was lit, bright enough to be seen even from the ship Zuko was on. The wall that surrounded the tribe was made of thick ice, and it surrounded both the housing area in the center of the tribe and the sparse buildings outside it. It was obviously built by skilled waterbenders.

Zuko spotted various plots reserved for construction. Wood beams outlined what would likely be governmental buildings, proper houses, and other purposes that Zuko could not identify with sight alone. Even with the lack of completed buildings, Zuko saw several people throughout, easily in the dozens. Some children played in an open area distant from the housing area. A few waterbenders used waterbending to repair a part of the wall that had been damaged in some way.

Zuko was under the impression that the Southern Reconstruction Project had been going on for years, that the tribe had recently run out of funding, which meant that the Fire Nation was due to help. Had they not been able to save the funds to assist? How much had the Northern Water Tribe helped? Minimally? Not at all?

Bato looked over towards the tribe with a fond smile. “It may not be much yet, but with time and care, it will be just as prosperous as we know it can be.”

Zuko turned to look back at Bato. “There’s a lot of people here! Does the Northern Water Tribe have people here to help with reconstruction?”

“Some, but not many,” Bato replied. “We have some healers here, and in the next few weeks, a master waterbender from the north is to arrive with more benders and more citizens to help rebuild. All of that planning is in the final stages of development.”

“Was there a delay of some kind?” Zuko asked. “Uncle alluded that reconstruction had been going on a lot longer.”

Bato nodded. “I understand your logic.” He moved to turn the ship closer to the tribe. “The end of the war left us with very little money to fund such a thing. We tried to establish relations with the Earth Kingdom when Chief Sokka’s father was still in charge, and that was a slow process considering our size. When he disappeared, we…” Bato paused for a long time, and Zuko was patient. “We waited a year after Chief Sokka became our leader to give him time to adjust to the position change. It seemed as though none of us were in a rush to rebuild after his father vanished. We needed our time to grieve, Sokka and his sister included.”

Zuko understood that. He was curious about Chief Sokka’s sister—who knew that she even existed? Certainly not Zuko—but it was a question for another time. Not when Bato seemed to still be struggling with what happened in the past.

“Once he felt comfortable enough to start further negotiations, we had to make a deal with Chief Arnook in the north. We struggled to agree on what money would be spent on, what resources would go where,” Bato continued. “Chief Sokka has very big ambitions for the tribe. He has a list of ideas, all things that are, quote, ‘essential.’”

Zuko smiled. “I’m glad that he cares so much. It’s nice to see that in any leader.”

He couldn’t help but think that Fire Lord Azulon, in the instance that the Fire Nation needed to be reconstructed, would leave all of the responsibilities to his employees. He wouldn’t even care.

Bato cocked a grin. “Oh, yes. He cares more than all of us put together. It’s the most important thing to him.” He peered out towards the tribe and aimed the ship towards the pier. Zuko noticed that it was made of solid ice. The work of a waterbender was apparent throughout all parts of the tribe. “He spends more time on it than he does himself. Perhaps we can give him some time for himself once the project picks up some speed.”

Zuko watched as the faces of the Southern Water Tribe became clearer. He noticed immediately that anyone in the vicinity of the pier was glaring. None of them looked happy, not even the children that were smiling at one another moments before. Zuko knew that they knew he was coming; he would be foolish to think that he could arrive without them knowing. But to see the stares of hatred cutting into him, it caused anxiety to crawl up his spine. _Agni_.

Zuko attempted a steadying breath as Bato stopped the ship at the pier. The hooded man on the boat with Bato, another warrior who didn’t speak to Zuko the entire trip, moved to tie the ship down to not float off. Bato moved to stand next to Zuko, waving a hand at a child that waved at him. “I need to find the Chief. You can come with me so you can meet him before dinner,” Bato offered. The mood in his voice was close to unidentifiable, reflecting possible discomfort. “I, ah… I doubt that you want to do much else.”

Zuko nodded wordlessly. So it _was_ obvious that he was unwelcome. Great. 

Zuko followed Bato down to the pier, his single bag slung over his shoulder like a heavy weight. He looked at Bato’s back, watching as he greeted some of the tribe members with their names or fond waves. Zuko could only watch as they stared him down, trying to analyze his movement, his intentions, all without speaking to him. Zuko knew that he was hated even without speaking a single word.

Bato turned to Zuko to say something and must have seen his severe discomfort, for he put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him towards him. “Everyone,” he said to the crowd. They all turned their gazes away and looked at Bato intently. It was clear that he was someone to be respected. “This is our newest ambassador, Zuko,” he introduced, lightly patting Zuko on the shoulder. “He’s here to monitor the Southern Reconstruction Project. He has offered the assistance of the Fire Nation to rebuild the Southern Water Tribe. He is an honored guest for the next several weeks, and we _will_ treat him as such. Understood?”

There were soft murmurs from the small group, but several of them nodded. Bato nodded as well. “Good. Now, is the Chief home? I need to let him meet our guest before dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” one man called from the back of the group. 

Without another word, Bato led Zuko towards the area of housing. They were all tents, built with thick animal leather and standing tall above Zuko’s head. They were clearly well-built to withstand any sort of weather that the tundra may throw their way. Some people were standing around, and one elderly woman sat in front of the fire, cooking a meal that Zuko assumed was for dinner.

Bato gestured to an area in between some tents. “Put your bag down right here. Chief Sokka will show you where your tent is once dinner is over.”

As told, Zuko carefully placed his bag down on the icy ground. He was grateful that his boots were resistant to ice, and he was able to walk around with general ease. He doubted that it would do his reputation (and his pride) much service if he fell in front of the tribe. 

In the distance, Zuko saw what he assumed was the Chief’s tent. It was the same size as the rest of the tents, but it was made with thicker leather and had varying weaponry outside of it. A warrior stood out from it, perched with a club of some kind. It was clear that his task was to keep the Chief safe during the day. 

The moment that Bato approached, the warrior lowered his club. “Bato! I’m glad that you have returned safely.”

“Thank you, Anik.” Bato gestured to Zuko. “This is our newest ambassador, Zuko.”

Anik bowed at him. “An honor to have your help, Zuko.”

Zuko returned the bow. “The honor is mine.”

Bato smiled toward Anik. “Is the Chief free?”

“For you?” Anik scoffed, tilting his head towards the entrance of the tent. “Always free. Go right in.”

Bato smiled towards Zuko before he pulled on the flap of the tent and stepped inside. He held it up, and Zuko stepped under it and into the tent. He ignored the nerves that sat in the pit of his stomach.

The inside of the tent had a certain neat messiness to it that left Zuko puzzled. Random scrolls and documents sat in messy piles on a table along the wall of the tent. Some sat on the floor, crossed-out words and messy sketches lining the pages. A leather sleeping bag was seated in the corner, and the cover of it was slung across rather than folded over. Zuko noted how comfortable—and warm—it looked.

And sitting on a bench by the table, reading over a scroll by lantern light and seemingly unaware of their arrival, was Chief Sokka himself.

The light of the lantern accentuated his features, showing just how young he was. His head was shaved on the sides, and a wolf tail was tied on the back of his head, his hair reaching the nape of his neck. Two braids came out of the top of his head; two ivory beads, clearly made by hand, sat in the braids, just above where they were tied off. His eyes were narrowed as he read, but Zuko could tell that his eyes were the color of a clear sky, bright blue and calming, far bluer than Bato’s even though Zuko imagined that such an instance was impossible just hours ago. 

His clothes were just as regal, just as powerful, as Zuko imagined them to be. He wore a blue coat, a thin line of fur lining his collar. The coat’s sleeves had the Water Tribe symbol on ivory buttons near his wrists, merely for decorative purposes. Around his neck, he wore a necklace of bone, strung together to envelop his neck. He wore brown pants, thick brown boots, no gloves. His hands were calloused, clearly used for training, hunting, and Agni knew what else. On his shoulders rested a thicker cloak of some kind; it reminded Zuko of the Fire Lord regalia in the form of a robe, signifying the power of the individual. It had a thick lining of fur around the back and front, coming together around his neck. The cloak hovered just above the ground, the same pristine white fur lining it. The cloak was clasped around his neck with the symbol of the Water Tribe.

The way that he sat was equally as flooring. He sat up completely straight, seemingly comfortable in the proper position, his shoulders back and his chin lifted. Zuko wasn’t sure if he was playing the part of a powerful Chief because Zuko was there, or if he was like that at all times, but it left him with flutter bats in his stomach regardless.

To say that the sight was stunning was an understatement. It truly was.

Zuko knew that Sokka was his age, yet it felt as though he were meeting a man that was wise beyond his years. It felt more like meeting a spirit than a twenty-year-old, a man who shouldn’t have had to be in the position for five years already.

Before Zuko could get the courage to actually speak to this man, Chief Sokka looked up. Eyes of a clear sky became a dark storm the moment his and Zuko’s met.

Zuko felt a cold sweat form on his neck. He ignored it.

Bato either didn’t notice the shift in the mood, or he ignored it, because he stepped further into the tent and greeted Chief Sokka with a warm smile. “You seem busy.”

Chief Sokka shook his head as he rose from his seat. Zuko tried to ignore the way his braids swayed. “Just reading over some new proposals before Master Pakku comes.”

Bato nodded, and he glanced at Zuko, silently encouraging him to speak up. Zuko made eye contact with him before looking back at the Chief. Zuko lowered his torso and bowed, hoping to Agni that it was as respectful and presentable as he practiced it to be.

“Chief Sokka,” Zuko began. His voice was steadier coming out of his mouth than it sounded in his head, and he was grateful. “My name is Zuko, and I am the chosen ambassador for the Fire Nation. I volunteered for this position so I can help the Southern Water Tribe in its reconstruction efforts. I am grateful that you have allowed me to come. I look forward to getting to know you and the rest of the tribe.”

Zuko cursed at himself when he said his name aloud. Chief Sokka _had_ to know his name. Common sense.

The silence that passed was tense. Zuko watched as the shadows on the floor changed, and he realized that Chief Sokka was returning the bow. He didn’t speak, but Zuko hardly expected him to. 

Zuko ended the bow seconds later, and he and the Chief locked eyes again. The storm was still brewing, it seemed, and Chief Sokka looked nothing less than irritated.

Bato was still smiling, however, and he stepped up to Chief Sokka and put a hand on his shoulder. “Finish up for the evening,” he advised. “You two should get to know one another a little before dinner. I’ll come to get you both.”

Chief Sokka and Zuko nodded at the same time. “Thank you, Bato,” Chief Sokka said quietly.

With that, Bato was gone, and Zuko locked eyes with the Chief once again. 

He was far more intimidating when he was standing. He was taller than Zuko, only by a little, but it was just enough for Zuko to feel like he needed to cower. 

The silence was nearly deafening until Chief Sokka spoke up again. “So, are the rumors true?”

Zuko frowned. “Rumors, sir?”

“That the Fire Lord is your grandfather.” Chief Sokka glanced up at Zuko’s head, eyeing the golden headpiece he wore in his topknot. “Your uncle is the Crown Prince. Your family began the attacks on my home… and the world.” His eyes were dark and filled with anger and disdain, and his eyebrows were furrowed in anger.

Zuko felt small against his angry stare. All the while, he knew that it was deserved. 

“I am,” he said truthfully. “I am of royal blood.”

Chief Sokka shook his head. “I hope to the spirits that you are nothing like any of them.” He took a step forward, their eyes locked. “Please know that it took Bato and several other trusted individuals to convince me to let you come. Bato has great faith in you because of a good word from your uncle, who he trusts. I ask that you do not prove either of them wrong.”

“I am here to help in reconstruction on behalf of the Fire Nation,” Zuko assured. He felt himself become confident as he spoke. He hoped that Chief Sokka could see it. “I will do nothing to harm you or your tribe. I would have not volunteered for the position otherwise. You have my word.”

“Good. Prove it to me then.”

Their gazes remained for several more seconds before Chief Sokka turned away, looking back at his scrolls without sitting back down. Zuko stared at his back, wholly unsure of what to do.

It was… It was not the best first encounter that they could have had. It was painfully clear that Chief Sokka did not like Zuko; it was equally clear that he had no intention of changing his mind on that either. Zuko had accepted it the moment he was officially an ambassador, so it hardly stung.

He thought back to Bato’s words on the boat.

“ _He needs a friend. I know that the priority is the reconstruction of the tribe. It_ is _, but… you should try to be his friend at the same time. You’ll be spending a lot of time together. I don’t consider it outside the realm of possibility._ ”

Zuko wondered if Bato was actually correct in his theory.

* * *

Dinner that night, sitting around the fire that sat in the middle of the tents, was pleasant.

Bato had come to retrieve Chief Sokka and Zuko after a few tense minutes in his tent. Zuko sat down where Bato instructed, and Chief Sokka sat down next to the older woman who made dinner a few seats down, diagonal of where Zuko sat. Bato sat next to Zuko and offered him a serving of the seafood caught in the days before.

“It’s some of our best,” Bato had assured. “Nothing is quite as good as Water Tribe seafood.”

True to his word, when Zuko was served some noodles with fresh seafood on top, he was hardly disappointed. In fact, it was delicious, and he told Bato that it was so. Bato was eager to thank him, clearly glad that he enjoyed it.

Silence passed between Zuko and Bato until Bato spoke up, his food already nearly finished. “What are you the most excited for?” he asked.

Zuko looked up at him as he gathered a bite of food. “What do you mean?”

“About staying here.” Bato took a sip of his drink. “What are you the most excited to see?”

Zuko contemplated his answer as he chewed on another bite. Once he swallowed, he replied. “I think I’m excited to see the tribe grow the most. I’ve seen it now, and I’ve read about how amazing it was before the war.” He frowned slightly at the mention. “I know that my relationship with Chief Sokka right now is, ah…”

“Messy?” Bato offered after a few seconds. He was smiling.

Zuko nodded. “Messy, yeah. I’m excited for him and me to be able to work together to help the tribe grow. I only hope that he learns to trust me quickly. I understand if he doesn’t.”

Zuko hardly felt that he was deserving of the trust that he so desperately wanted. He knew that he wasn’t the one that caused the Southern Water Tribe harm, but his family was. Chief Sokka had every right to hate him.

Bato hummed thoughtfully before putting his bowl in his lap. “I think that’s a very good thing to look forward to. I look forward to the same thing. I cannot wait to see the tribe as it was when I was a boy.” He looked Zuko in the eye. “Your concerns are valid, you know. I can tell that you’re ashamed in the past of the Fire Nation. That alone speaks volume about you as a person, Zuko.” He leaned forward a tad, relishing in the warmth of the fire. “I know that the Chief is distant now. But in a few weeks, or perhaps sooner, he will see you the way I do. I know he will.”

Zuko returned the smile then. “Thank you, Bato.” He turned his attention back to his food, trying to hide his embarrassed blush.

After a few more minutes of quiet chatter and eating, Bato rose to his feet and lifted his drink. The rest of the tribe looked at him expectantly as it dawned on Zuko what was happening: a toast.

“I know that the past few weeks, and even years, have been uncertain and filled with devastating tribulations and losses,” Bato said. As he spoke, a soft hum came across the group, everyone agreeing with him without an audible word spoken. “But know this: things are beginning to look up. We have the Northern Water Tribe’s assistance, as well as our newest ambassador—” He gestured to Zuko, who was still sitting and looking mortified at the mention of him. “—Zuko, who has come all the way from the Fire Nation to assist us. I know that our past has been rocky, but I know that Zuko is here as an ally. I know he is a fine young man, and he will do what it takes to help us.”

 _A fine young man_. Zuko was from the Fire Nation, and Bato, who should have hated him, thought he was a fine young man. He could hardly believe it. He almost didn’t.

Bato lifted his drink, and everyone in attendance did the same. “May all of us work together to make the Southern Reconstruction Project a success. To the Southern Water Tribe!”

Several cheers of “To the Southern Water Tribe!” broke out, and everyone took drinks of their beverages. Zuko found himself joining in, smiling as he cheered for the tribe he just met.

When he stopped drinking, he looked around to see Chief Sokka staring at him. He was frowning. Zuko refused to let it bother him for the rest of dinner.

Once dinner had concluded, Bato went to bed before Zuko did. He spoke to Chief Sokka briefly before going to his tent for the night. Once he left, Chief Sokka rose to his feet and stood in front of Zuko. “Bato told me that your stuff is outside my tent?”

“Yes, sir,” Zuko replied. He rose to his feet. “He told me to leave it there until tonight. He said that you would show me to my tent once dinner was over.”

Chief Sokka nodded. “He told me the same. Lucky for you, our tents are really close together. Come on.” Without another word, they walked together to the Chief’s tent, and Zuko grabbed his bag off of the ground, where it remained untouched.

Chief Sokka led Zuko to a tent just a few feet away. They stepped inside together, and Zuko was pleased to see that the inside was lit by a lantern. It had a table to act as a desk, as well as a bed similar to the Chief’s own. There were already papers and scrolls there, neatly stacked, rolled, and organized. His biggest shock was that there was no chair or seat of any kind.

Chief Sokka seemed surprised as well. “Oh.” He stepped in and looked around further, and Zuko pretended not to hear the soft, “What the hell?” under his breath. He looked back over at Zuko with a small frown. “There was a chair in here two days ago,” he admitted. “I don’t know where it went.”

“I’ll be fine without a chair, Chief Sokka,” Zuko assured. “Really, I can stand by the table if—”

Chief Sokka shook his head. “No. Bato wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t give you a chair. I’ll—I’ll find you one tomorrow.” 

With that, he went to the exit of the tent. “We begin negotiations on the trade route tomorrow morning,” he stated. “The itinerary for our discussions is on your table. Be awake at dawn so you can eat breakfast before we begin.”

Zuko nodded at the Chief, hastily bowing. “Goodnight, Chief Sokka. See you tomorrow.”

The Chief did not reply as he exited the tent. 

Zuko put his bag down on the floor and sat on the sleeping bag. It took everything in him not to groan aloud.

The Chief hated him, and he had to work with him directly for the next several weeks. It was within reason to dread it a bit, right?

**Author's Note:**

> support the fic on tumblr [here](https://zukkastanrights.tumblr.com/post/632538434866708480/all-for-a-pretty-sky-and-your-pretty-eyes)!!! send me an ask/message me on tumblr, [zukkastanrights](https://zukkastanrights.tumblr.com/), if you'd like to see writing updates and ask me about this!! :)


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